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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24194623">Shadows</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorZPrincezZ/pseuds/ColorZPrincezZ'>ColorZPrincezZ</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe- Dark Creatures, Based on a lovely story on tumblr, Based on a moodboard, Dark Entity Tony Stark, Dreams and deep slumbers, M/M, Shadows as beings, The Thing that Lives under the Bed, a very human Peter Parker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 01:08:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,259</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24194623</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorZPrincezZ/pseuds/ColorZPrincezZ</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter was not scared. He was curious.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Parker/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The moodboard by starker-sorbet @ tumblr and the shockingly sweet story by thestarkerisobvious led me to this.</p><p>Please, listen to: Lexys- Lonely Waltz while reading.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Shadows </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Basking in the warm candle light waddling in waves of whispers, Peter walked. His gaze was hook to the floor, distant figures and forms danced all around him, following a tune he could still not hear but his heart long for. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The echoes of his steps came soon and bathing in light, he was conscious of his body. His bare legs and shoeless feet, the smooth floor wasn’t cold but his felt chills down his spine even in the stillness of the room. An eerieair surround him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Peter was not scared. He was curious. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In his dream, Peter wore a camisole, a soft piece of fabric long enough to cover his hands and only showing his fingertips. The air was delicate and scent of wild flowers that made him feel heavy and lightweight altogether. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">With a blinking game against his brain, Peter shortly after was capable of recognizing shapes beneath his cheeks. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The room wasn’t spare but his eyes yet fought to get used to the darkness. The absence of light cause him no trouble, in fact, lull him to rest and calm even standing up. With careful fingertips he reached for the closets wall going after the fleeting sway of candles and wax, founding now, colors in his eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The room shifted for his view only, creating new colors and shades of lights. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Breaking the spell of sound, Peter saw himself fit to move, his wavy legs tingled after staying put even when he didn’t think it was that long. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Peter believed he was alone, but the increasing number of shapes close to his feet taught him otherwise. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Peter placed on feet after the other, walking around the enormous hall, discovering how the shadows seemed to dance with him and he laughed. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The shadow was glad to hear such a sound. Too long has it been since someone stood with him, for him, near him enough to lull him. To make them sing their lullaby. Oh, the shadows were static. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">One by one, shadows came close, slithering their way inches from the living form in their domains. The boy laughed happy and clear as one of them tickled him in accident. Coming too close, close enough to touch him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The lights were livid in rage and The Shadow drew back in fear. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The Shadow was taught not to touch, it could only hurt by touch— even when the boy laughed, they thought it was wrong. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Peter froze sensing terror in his body. Of what? He was not sure about, but an overwhelming sense of horror fill him as the shadow abandoned him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wait—“ He wanted to say. “Don’t leave me.” His heart cried. “Come back.” His soul prayed. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He has never felt more alone. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The lights flicked in curiosity. Was the boy sad? Had they made him sad? The Lights didn’t want for the boy to be that way, they only wanted to protect him from despair. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Going back to low volumes, the Light allowed the Shadows to come back. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Peter felt a ghost brush down his lashes, sweet in abundance to make him smile. His friends were back. Serpentines danced around him, pushing him to the center of the room and teaching him how to dance. A slow tune began to play in his ears, a careful piano guide his feet and soon Peter lost himself in the music. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Moving and dancing, twirling and swinging. With open arms and reaching his the top to his fingers; the music picked his eagerness and turned faster. Bewildered and pleased, Peter danced now, feeling not alone. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">An arm pulled him close, his hand was taken, leading his steps and making his clothes crumble in lines and bruces. The Shadow was there with him although Peter couldn’t see them. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The sun was rising behind his back deceiving his eyes, eluding the shadow from his eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The tune came to and end. And Peter stood alone in the wide space as birds chirped outside the windows, making his eyes heavy letting him know it was time to wake up. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Peter didn’t know when would he be back, he only hope he could. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His friends were there and Peter didn’t want for them to be alone. He would visit again, Peter would stay in the Dark. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As Peter hid under the covers, chasing warmth, the shadows waited. Exploring the space under the bed, expanding its legs toward the floor as the lamp on the hallway was turned off. His body was dizzy and fume as fog. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It will take them time but they have waited, they have waited so long, so lonely. They have waited for their light and it was finally here. Their light would come to them. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The shadows would take their original form soon and soon after would present themself to light. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They would consume the light. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please, listen to a song Cat Pierce feat James Levy- Regret by almost the end.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Startdust and Moonlight</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Up to next morning, Peter didn’t feel tired nor restless, he imagined he had dreamed last night, however his mind was foggy and he couldn’t remember what his dream was all about. A sharp knock on the door alerted him.</p><p>“C’mon sleeping beauty, it’s time to wake up.” Groovy with sleep Peter marched to the bathroom and got ready for the day. His hair was suffering from a crazy case of bed hair, sticking all over the place as if somebody had played with it before he went to sleep; a distant tune rang beneath him making him blink fast trying to remember. Where did the music come from?</p><p>Once again, May knocked on his door, only this time, she appeared smiling at him offering a warm cup of coffee.</p><p>“You’re getting late for school, kiddo.”  Peter said his goodbyes running out of the apartment after kissing her cheek and stealing her breakfast.</p><p>Peter’s mornings were very similar and casual. Tones of boring classes, boring topics, interesting topics, horrible teachers and lots of screaming, whether is the Cafeteria flood with kids and hunger or the long hallways filling with swimming legs and rush breathes as more than one student seemed to late that day.</p><p>His one free period was usually taken by the library, on the days Ned and Gwen shared the same hours, they would stay together, eating snacks and talking about their days, their classes, the weekly gossip, dating and the walk of shamed to the principal’s office.</p><p>By the early afternoon, right after the bell rang and the students started to leave the school, Peter would take his time. The season was changing, the raging heat was slowly decreasing, although there was no obvious turning on the trees nor any sing of snow yet, surely autumn was taking his time to arrive. The sun still shined above their heads and painted the sky with blues and magentas reminding him of cotton candy on the Carnival.</p><p>Waiting for the subway wasn’t really a chore, at least not for Peter, sure May hated it on the rush hours when everyone was trap like a can of sardines, but even then for Peter was a whole experience. Low were the times where Peter would take a seat, and even if he got lucky he would prefer to give it away to someone who actually needed it. He liked to daydream about the lives of the people who traveled with him on short distances on the subway, where would they go? Where did they live? Did they like the subway like Peter or would they hate it like May? Would the people love being in such a restricting place or would they rather be on wide open spaces?</p><p>Like that foggy gray ancient mansion Peter used to visit when little.</p><p>Wait— what mansion?</p><p>Going into a tunnel with the flutter of passing birds, Peter closed his eyes and saw it. The long roads of ladders cover in dirt and dead leaves. The lonely looking mansion resting in dry land and open space, the bindweed created a slithering path that he wishes to dance upon. The creaking of leaves under his bare feet was a delighted sound as he danced an old tune in violin. Would anybody be there to dance with him?</p><p>The flashing light of warm sun brought him back to the present. The people around were unconcerned of his thoughts and soon one and another left their places by the time they reached their destination. Confusion clouded his mind, was it a dream? He could recall the fresh memory of a place he was sure; he had never been before even when the details were so firm in his brain. Perhaps he had seen it in class? History was never his forte but Peter could swear it was straight out of a Victorian novel, those which he and his classmate were force to read in literature and study their times in real life back in the 1800s.</p><p>Maybe, that’s what it was. A simple made of memory from a past class.</p><p>Peter went home without another thought feeling the soothing warmth of sleepy sun at the back of his neck, innocent to perceive the glooming darkness that soon came to follow.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>That night the Shadow was small. The longing in their whole being was palpable but the Light was so bright and pure that they could not do much. They questioned what could have changed and what could have happened to their Master for him to be so different in a blink of an eye. Their eyes had not deceived them, Peter seemed happy, content, curious and joyful for the passing of nights where he could play with them, Peter went as far as dancing with them in their home and he looked so thrill; the Shadow thought they had found the <em>one</em>. But now their master was so gloomy, a pale shade of gray where not even his sight would light up the darkness.</p><p>What happened to master Peter?</p><p>They waited and hoovered, holding back and longing. They stood back until Peter came into his room.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Peter said goodnight to May with a long sigh, they were both tired after a long day and even when he had a pile of homework soon to become a mountain, Peter wanted nothing but to sleep and forget.</p><p>«<em>What Master wants, Master gets.</em> »</p><p>Under the covers Peter stayed wiggling his way into comfort, his puffy socks were on and his pillow was extra fluffy he felt swimming in the clouds, the air around him stilled. There was no rusting of wind or lonely dragonflies looking for their partners in the open, like a bubble of peace Peter was surrounded by calm and serenity.</p><p>Shadow peeked in curiosity ventured under the bed, slowly reaching the edge of its domain, they had never reached that far before, their limits were bound to the stretch of the bed and the cold floor beneath it. The Light had told them so.</p><p>«<em>Impossible to go. Perish you will. Consumed and forgotten you be.</em> »</p><p>The Shadow remembers those words, the words that left them powerless and lonely. Cast away in their home waiting, always waiting for someone who would come and dance once again. Fill their home with music and passion.</p><p>And surely he came.</p><p>Peter came stumbling around, touching the frozen walls of the mansion, painting marks of mist and fog, dark trails of obscurity where not even the selfish rays of light could reach them, the candles flickered, trembled in Peter’s passing. Peter was made to dance for them.</p><p>Thanks to Master Peter the Shadow could move, could walk and run, they could dance once again. So the Shadow would dance for Peter.</p><p>The roaming of music came in whispers. Peter wasn’t sure on how he knew but he was certain, soon he would be able to hear it all clearly. The shy notes sound peaceful and inquisitive, as if they were waiting for him. And waiting they were.</p><p>Bashful tunes came closer and closer, prompting him to walk freely on their soft rugs. Open doors greeted him but instead of the massive dance hall he was accustomed to see, his sight was different. A wide room with oval ceilings and spiders hanging from it with short flames of candles.</p><p>“Where am I?” Peter questioned. The flicks of darkness danced its way to him drawing snakes of forms to get his attention.</p><p>«<em>Your room, Master.</em> »</p><p>“My room?” The large bed was made, the bed post had creamy wavy curtains and nets with opaline wind chimes sparkling and giving light to the space.</p><p>
  <em>«Yes. Yours. » </em>
</p><p>“How is this mine?” Peter came standing in front of the wavy shadow and extended his hand with clear intensions of touching but never being brave enough.</p><p>«<em>His room. Happy Master. Room Master happy.</em> »</p><p>Peter still didn’t understand how it came to be his. Who could have given him such room? Who lived in that place besides his friends. The friendly shadows that love to play and dance with him.  As if sensing his thoughts, the shadow beamed looking bigger than before, faster than before. The shadow circled him, surrounded him and for seconds Peter feared, were the shadows going to hurt him? The last time he was in that same position, not only him but his uncle was also hurt.</p><p>«<em>No. Master, happy. Master, dance. Clothes for Master. And Master dance.</em> »</p><p>The Shadows wrapped him in spirals of feathers, later on Peter could picture the difference, the difference between the regular darkness he knew and the absolute blackness that soon followed his eyes to the point where he couldn’t even see himself nor the palm in front of him. <br/>His body took another shape, long lost was the soft camisole he always seemed to have in that place and now, a fit white dress shirt, a high neck and a soft cravat was decorating it, resting in the middle a dime of gold. His slacks of a pompous fabric, but quite fit and also white trousers. And all that pristine beauty shined over a burgundy jacket brocade in gold.</p><p>He had no trench coat as the Shadow seemed no need for it due to of the extensive waterfall of tail from the vest. Peter could not believe his eyes as he moved and twisted and twirled within himself. A full body mirror came in view and Peter saw himself for the first time.</p><p>«<em>Beautifu</em>l. »</p><p>Peter wasn’t sure who was talking but he recognized the voice from before. The other times he had been in the mansion, they were there with him, all the shadows and whoever talked right now. He took careful steps reaching the mirror, the person standing at his back was at the far corner of the room, so Peter was not able to see him yet, the soft light trembled and soon after died as the mirror broke in tiny pieces.</p><p>“Please,” Peter begged with shaky hands, trailing shattered pieces of glass, the Shadow feared he would hurt himself. “Please, don’t go.” Closing his eyes, letting himself be consumed by the lack of light, Peter begged. “Please, I just want to see you.” The Shadow smiled and all the lights came to life creating a path for Peter to follow.</p><p>“Dance with me.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>Everything is easy in the middle of the night</em>
  <em><br/>Your eyes are stars, your skin moonlight<br/>But with the sun there comes the truth<br/>It bares the soul and wastes the youth</em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>With each passing breath Peter could see him better. His hands were cold to touch, Peter’s fingertips reaching the man’s hands with care as he let himself be led toward the center of the room, spinning around in harmony and light feet, Peter’s still bare feet slid smoothly barely feeling the lack of warmth when his whole attention was placed on the man he had to know yet.</p><p>“What’s your name?” his curious eyes did not escape the handsome features of the person dancing, Peter was trying to remember. He needed to remember this person, he was sure, he knew him somehow but from where.</p><p>“Our always curious Master.” The man smiled all teeth white and shiny, causing a shiver down his spine as Peter couldn’t look away. At that recognition flashed past his mind and Peter came closer as possible. Was it the shadow? Were his friends? The man nodded short but sweet and with a change of tune made Peter take a turn and bubbles of laughter fluttered out of his pale lips.</p><p>“But what do I call you?” What to call them? They were his friends, but keep calling ‘it’ or ‘they’ felt odd in a passive way, like he long to connect with them in a greater level. A name could bring love; a name could bring pain but still gave the warmth of memories and knowledge. A named could give meaning.</p><p>“I had many names before.” The man explained. “But in here, in our home…” To make a point, Peter twisted once again and was brought to a tight hug. “Master can call us what he wished to.”</p><p>“Peter.” He stated. And the man tilted his head to a side in question, like that Peter could take in all the little details. Long, dark lashes outlining whiskey warm eyes that never seemed to miss him, a strong jaw with full lips surrounded by a trim beard, raspy and soft looking.</p><p>“My new name is Peter?” Peter wanted to laugh but snorted instead.</p><p>“It’s mine.” The music soon came to an end but neither felt like moving away. “My name is Peter.”</p><p>«<em>Peter.</em> »</p><p>The honey dripping feeling he got from a simple whisper made him shiver and his friend feared he would get cold. They, both, would find a fitting name.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Hours spent walking and moving, traveling around the open halls and still rooms. The shadow followed close aching to never letting him go. Bright chandeliers on top of their heads and dying candles alerted them it was time to go. The Shadow hurt in longing, he had his master, he had a name and his strength was coming back because of it; his master was right. With a new meaning he could live again, live above from the binding shackles of fear were no longer in his wrist, his Master had given them so much live and love.</p><p>The Shadow stood next to Peter as the boy sighed in deep sleep, with no one else around, he could drink in all beauty his Master is, was and it would be in all eternity. With his long curls expanding over the white sheets of the pillows, protected from cold in his comfort cocoon of blankets, the Shadow reached down to touch him, however froze in impression and fondness. Even in his sleep, his master called for him.</p><p>“<em>Tony</em>.” To Tony, Peter was made of stardust when his eyes sparkle and moonlight shine of all his pristine skin each time he dares to feel under his fingertips. Meant to guide his path in the sea of black that was his existence. For a short amount of time, faster than a blink, Peter saw him. His master saw him materialized in his world, not the realm of dreams and wonder and smiled at him, called for him. “Tony—” He didn’t have to hide anymore; he didn’t have to be afraid anymore. With one touch of his lips and his Master would be utterly and completely <em>his</em>.</p><p>Closing his eyes and holding a breath, Peter thought if that was what it felt like to be loved to death.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This was not what i imagined happening but as Cat release this song i couldn't help but to sank in it and imagine as Tony would feel Peter as much as the angsty song tells you. And i know that by those last lines it could led to a tragic end for Peter, but is up to you to decided if Peter falls asleep forever to dream of Tony of if he ever blinks again. </p><p>I did call him sleeping beauty for a reason.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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